Salt and Chocolate in my teeth

 

I've just hoofed a chocolate chip cookie from the bakery, from Yardsale. I ate a burrito the size of a cat before that. I am tired and awful today and eating is the only thing that feels good. Sleep would also feel great but no time for that. 

From the last post, years ago. Let's see what I've **manifested**

I will have a good job, and it will pay me good money. 

I have a nice job, I work as a ceramic tech and teacher, and I've bullshat my way into a position as a social media coordinator. I don't know how good I am at this yet. I don't make enough money to live alone and I am 35. 

I will feel comfortable in my own body, in terms of weight and hair and also muscle tension and foot pain. 

I'm fatter than I've ever been. I look horrific, like a baby hippo all shiny and taut, eyes bulging. I have a button up shirt on today and was dancing badly to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter and realized that I look like Christopher Lloyd's Uncle Fester. My hair is half done- less than half done, actually. I had some hours on Wednesday to braid my hair and none since then. It's in a bun with a survivor buff hiding the mess. 

I will find love. 

In no way. This is an impossibility. My personality for one. The aforementioned similarity to a baby hippo, for another. 

I will have a home. 

I am literally living with a friend in her office because I can't afford to live alone and I needed a break from lviign with strangers. 

I will make something I am proud of. 

I like some of the work I make. But my output is pathetic and I have no career to speak of. 

I got to the restuarant I went to and sat down and started crying. I'm not even sad. I just couldn't stop my eyes welling up. I think I'm broken, I'm not actively sad, I'm just. I 

I don't know.